


Tranquil

by CythisLavellan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CythisLavellan/pseuds/CythisLavellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas is traveling alone and a Thedas where the Templars have been revived and Vivienne sits as Divine, strengthening the Circles, is a dangerous place for a lone apostate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capture

Solas had been dreaming, searching the Fade for more memories, more answers, more artifacts that could be used in place of the orb. Every now and then, he’d catch a glimpse of Lavellan doing the same and each time, it became harder to keep his distance. The spirits kept her away as promised, but just seeing her face could shake his determination. Many times, he considered going to her, but meeting her in her dreams would only be crueler than the selfish love he’d already started. Asleep in the collapsed ruin of an old tower, he’d been too deep into the Fade to hear the footsteps approaching. Solas had set his wards and left out the food for the spiders, but such things were meant for monsters, not humans….and magical wards were little use against Templars, newly strengthened under Vivienne’s rule. In fact, the wards led them right to him. Seeing the staff lying at his side, it was quickly determined that he was an apostate and as one of the group reached for the staff, Solas awoke.

Quickly recognizing the armor, he grabbed the silver rod, working to cast before the Templars could suppress him, but two had already begun. Trying to rise to his feet, another Templar forced Solas back to the ground. A sharp knock on the head from the hilt of his sword and his consciousness slipped back away.

“ _Vhenan_ ….” He gasped as he slipped away.

Solas awoke hours later in a haze, finding a dark room with dark walls. The moist, dense air told him that he was underground. Sitting up, there was a pounding in his head. These weren’t the ruins he’d fallen asleep in. Someone had woken him and then….a burning sword emblazoned on their armor…Templars. If that’s who’d taken him then this was….a Circle Tower. Obviously, his staff was nowhere to be seen. A staff that had been crafted for him at Skyhold from materials she’d gathered. For all he knew, some neophyte was using it to train now. Running a hand over his smooth head, he felt the bruise where he’d been struck and winced.

“Brutes…” He hissed, looking at the magical restraints and wards on the walls and door. There was no magic he could use in here. Still, they wouldn’t leave him down here for good. Vivienne and Cassandra had done good work in reforming the Templars, even if he disagreed with their purpose. An incident like Cole’s wouldn’t happen again.

“You’re up.” A Templar announced as he made his rounds, sliding food through a hatch in the door. “Rare to find an apostate as old as you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Solas replied, refusing the sustenance.

“You know where you are?”

“A Circle would be my guess based on your first observation.”

“Good guess. You want to get out or do you want to stay down here for the rest of your life? Can’t leave the building until you get some rank, but at least you can get out of that cell.”

Solas thought a moment. Fighting now would only land him in more trouble. He needed to escape and do it before he was made Tranquil. For now, his studies would have to stay on hold.

“……Fine. I assume there’s papers to be done.”

“I’ll get them.” The guard returned with a stack of paperwork, asking for personal information so he could be registered. He began filling out his name when he paused. If he used his real identity, Leliana or Vivienne would know in a matter of days and Lavellan would follow soon after. The memory of her brought up mixed feelings. He wanted to see her again, to hold her light frame, smell the scent of pine in her short red hair, trace the markings she’d been too proud to have removed from her face, but that couldn’t happen. She had to stay a safe distance. Using the name “Abelas”, he filled out the forms, piecing together a history from his travels. Sliding the papers back through the hatch, he waited as the guard looked them over.

“All right. I’ll take these to the First Enchanter and she’ll look over you.”

For a moment, Solas thought he meant Vivienne and almost asked for the forms back, but Vivienne was the Divine now. She wouldn’t be caught dead here…..She likely wouldn’t have been caught dead here before she was Divine.

A woman came to him next, opening the door, but clearly not intending for him to leave quite yet.

“It is rare to find an apostate your age with no record.”

“Clearly you haven’t met many talented apostates.”

“No. The ones who end up here rarely are. Tell me, what were you doing in that ruin? Seems a strange place for a nap and obviously, it did not hide you from the Templars.”

“I was studying it. I had only stopped to rest.” Solas lied. He couldn’t talk of his walks among the Fade here. If he was made Tranquil, he was finished. Only the Inquisition knew how to reverse it and he’d just made sure that he couldn’t be found.

“A historian. We have some among us who call themselves the same. Perhaps you’d like to help them along.”

Solas fought the urge to sigh in exasperation. ‘Historians’ had been telling him that he was wrong since he’d awoken, he who’d lived through it and seen it enacted before him.

“Of course I can. Though I would be hindered without my travels.” He replied instead.

“Perhaps you can gain that permission in time. Things are more lax around here than you may have heard.” The First Enchanter handed Solas a set of Circle robes to wear. “Once changed, you may come upstairs.” The First Enchanter left to prepare a new phylactery. Apostates past 20 rarely stayed peacefully. Someone of the newcomer’s age would certainly object.

Solas stared at the robes for a long while before putting them on. His own robes were far more protective and also made at Skyhold. The undershirt was woven with dragon webbing, giving it that fiery orange color. He remembered facing the dragon with her, watching as Iron Bull recklessly threw himself into the fight, Cassandra fending off the dragon’s attacks easily. He and Lavellan had hung back, fighting side by side, slinging spells as she aimed her arrows for the creature’s eyes and joints, where it was most vulnerable. She’d lost consciousness briefly after taking a fireball. He’d been too slow to protect her. He remembered how his heart had stopped as he watched her fall, the feeling of relief when he managed to rouse her, the look of exhilaration on her face when the beast fell. Would he be stripped of what little he’d taken from that place as well as his time? How long would it take to get permission to leave? Even then, he’d be traced by his phylactery. No. He had to escape, but not now. Climbing the stairs, he gave his blood to make the vial, watching where it was placed so he could destroy it later. During the day, he resigned himself to study, translating ancient Elvhen texts, even a few he hadn’t read. Under the pretense of good behavior, his staff was restored to him after a month. So much wasted time, but he could not leave without it.

His first attempt to escape would see him back in the dungeons. He knew   what would likely come next. Either, he would be given another chance or he’d be made Tranquil. If the latter occurred, then everything was over. He’d remain here until they noticed his lack of aging, called him a demon, and killed him for it. The dungeons were made for mages who might be abominations or who could not control their power. No matter how he tried to draw on the Fade for power, this room held no connection to it. He was only free in his dreams and there he did wander, talking with the spirits as he could, making what little progress he could without leaving. The energy created by his Fadewalking triggered the wards and warned the First Enchanter above for demon contact and after several nights straight of this, the First Enchanter was forced to meet with the Templars to make a decision.

Gifted though he was, the newcomer was too dangerous to be left alone. Indeed, he seemed comfortable with demons and he’d not passed any sanctioned Harrowing. He may be an abomination already. For the safety of the Circle and to protect himself, ‘Abelas’ would be made Tranquil.

A guard opened his door in the morning, pulling him up to his feet and his arms behind him. The guard didn’t speak, leaving Solas uneasy. There were only two reasons he could think of that they would take him from his cell now and it was obvious that he wasn’t being commended on good behavior. Forcing him up the stairs, Solas was taken to a large room. A ring of Templars stood there with one at the fore, a sunburst brand in his hand. He could guess at what this ceremony was for and he could not allow this to happen. He quickly took stock if his options. Magic would be useless with this many Templars around. Stopping in his tracks, he snapped his head back into the face of the guard pushing him along, hearing a satisfying crunch as his nose burst with blood. Dropping to the ground before the punch swung afterwards collided with his head, he dashed towards the exit. The Templar guards were used to runners though and his apparant fear only served to prove Solas’s guilt. If he was truly afraid of the demons he spoke with, he’d want to be free of them. As he turned to the door leading to the main hall, another guard blocked his path and he was caught between another behind him. He tried a spell, but was repressed easily without a staff to magnify his power. A small scuffle ensued, fighting desperately against men both better trained and stronger than he. It did not last long. The bitter taste of anguish filled his mouth as he was dragged back to the room, putting up what little fight he could. Forced onto his knees, he glared hatred at the Templar who lined the brand up with his head. He couldn’t let it end here, even if it meant getting her involved. Resolving himself to leave before she could get to him, he tried his last resort.

“Stop this! I am not Abelas! I am….I am Solas of the Inquisition!” He shouted, the name clearly registering on their faces. The brand pointed at his head retreated and he breathed a sigh of relief. However, the hands holding him stayed strong as ever.

“First Enchanter….” The Templar inquired. If this was Solas, making him Tranquil would bring down the wrath of the Inquisition on the Circle.

“I know…” The Enchanter thought on this new information for a brief time. Solas was said to be a middle-aged elven apostate. He matched the description, but what was the truth? “If you had said who you were at the beginning, you would never have been kept here.  Why hide this?”

Solas knew his answers would decide his fate here. He could not tell the truth and there was more evidence towards this being a desperate lie.

“I was researching the ruins for the Inquisition. It was meant to be secret and I’d hoped to escape.” He replied carefully. “Corypheus was known to research elven ruins before his defeat and we did not want anyone drawing comparisons.”

“Even a letter sent in secret between I and the Inquisition could have cleared up the misunderstanding. If you are Solas, you would know that your particular studies are banned inside the Circles. You would have seen this coming. Why risk this over one or two people knowing about some research?” The First Enchanter refuted. “We know that Solas is an elven apostate and you do fit the description, but so do many others. We’ve also heard that Solas ran from the Inquisition. If you are who you say you are, why would you be doing research for them?”

“It was a plan by the Nightingale to prevent connection to the Inquisition. They can vouch for me.”

“Yes, but it’s a week’s ride from Skyhold. Plenty of time for you to finish whatever deals you’ve been making in your dreams. I can understand that you are desperate. Even if you are Solas, it sounds more like you are on the run from the Inquisition than part of them. Perhaps for the very reason you are here now.”

Solas felt his stomach turn to lead. _She’s already decided my guilt. There was no chance of escape here._

“Do it.” The Enchanter ordered.

“NO!” Solas fought against the hands holding him, pulling away from the brand coming to rest on his head again.

 Hot tears escaped his eyes as he felt something snap within him, a scream of pain bouncing off the stone walls and echoing in his pointed ears. For a moment, he saw all of it again, the spirits, the ruins, the pieces of history and ancient memories he’d found. And then it was gone. The well of power that had run through him for ages was replaced by a dry emptiness, a pit into which everything that had made him “Solas” fell. _I’ve failed. I’ve failed the People. I’ve left her for nothing._ A tear fell from his cheek to the floor. The last he would shed.

“Take him to the Tranquil’s quarters.” The First Enchanter ordered as Solas fell limp in the Templar’s hands. “Send him to the library when he wakes. He was doing good work with the elvhen texts. Perhaps he’d like to continue.”

“Ma’am….If he was Solas…”

“Then I will bear the consequences. The safety of those in the tower comes first. I will not abide the possibility of an abomination here.”


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has been found, but are they too late?

At first, Lavellan knew that Solas would eventually come back. He had to. He clearly had something to do, but when that was finished, surely he’d return and explain and so, she’d wait. Days quickly turned to months and then a year. Despite even Leliana’s best efforts, there was no trace of the elf. Lavellan had sworn to keep working for the stability of the nations, to continue the work of the Inquisitor and she had….at first. She hadn’t wanted to let him down, but as the days wore on, the hole he had left only grew larger. She was barely present at important social gatherings, glancing in the shadowy corners of the rooms for the man who’d said that he’d missed court intrigue and dancing, happily listening in on gossip as the those in attendance wrote off “the Inquisitor’s serving man”. On her days off, of which there were many now that the world was somewhat at peace, she preferred to spend her time sleeping, learning to search the Fade as he did. Gaining the concentration to control her dreams took a long while, hindered by not being a mage and the weakened connection to the Fade she had because of it. She waded through ancient memories and met some of the spirits he’d spoken of….but no matter how she pleaded, they all had pledged not to tell her where exactly he was, that he knew she was looking and that she should stop. Every now and then, she’d visit the rotunda that he’d painted, the only sign he’d left that he’d been here at all. She’d sit in his chair and stare at the walls, especially the final section that he’d started but never finished. She’d turned it over in her mind when he’d have had time after that final battle and the only answer she could think of was that he’d managed to sneak in while she was asleep, slipping past the guards and Leliana’s spies. A feat that was seemingly impossible, but everyone had been exhausted from the fight or drunk from the party….In Dorian and Iron Bull’s cases, both. The frustration of her fruitless searching was making her reckless. In battle, she threw herself into the fray, an extremely poor decision for an archer, barely noticing her injuries. It was common for Iron Bull to have to carry her back to an Inquisition camp to see the healers.

“Inquisitor, we must talk about this.” Cassandra insisted. “This is the third time this week you have had to be carried back.”

“I know that, Cassandra.” Lavellan replied, having been waiting for this conversation to come.

“You are the Inquisitor and an archer. Rushing into battle is both reckless and ill-advised. We cannot lose you, even now…..I know that you are…upset about Solas’s departure.”

“Upset? You think I’m just upset?” Lavellan snapped. “I’ve been searching the Fade every night for nothing, Leliana’s spies have been completely useless, and he apparently snuck in at some point to paint the walls only for no one to see him. I’m more than upset, Cassandra.”

“Inquisitor, I understand your frustration, but getting yourself killed is not going to help your efforts either. You must calm down.”

“He’s an apostate traveling alone. For all I know, he’s been taken by one of the Circles Vivienne reinstated and he’s stuck in a dungeon somewhere.”

“You know that if that happened Vivienne or Leliana would know and he managed to avoid capture until he chose to come to us…. Perhaps it is time to let him go…”

“……I can’t do that, Cassandra.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Lavellan was looking over the current operations with the war council, going over troop movements with Cullen, arranging for another -hopefully less eventful- Grand Ball in Orlais, and hearing yet another confirmation that Solas was nowhere to be found from Leliana, when Cole suddenly appeared in the room, looking even more distressed than usual. The sudden appearances had increased since Solas had convinced her to help him be more like a spirit and sometimes she regretted it.

“No. Not lost. Found. _Dark, dank, I have to leave. They can’t stop me here. I must run. I must_ -“

“Cole. What is it? Who are you talking about?” Lavellan interrupted.

“…..Now he’s gone.”

“Cole! Who is?”

“Solas.”

Lavellan’s heart skipped a beat, her stomach turning to lead. He was gone? Did that mean Cole had known where he was all along? Could he still sense him somehow?

“What do you mean “he’s gone”?” Lavellan asked.

“I looked for him, like you said, all this time, but…he hid himself from me. But yesterday, there was a glimpse of a new hurt, fear and anger. _They can’t. They will not take me_. And then suddenly, it just stopped. The hurt is gone.”

“Did he hide himself again?”

“No. It felt like it was just….wiped away. He’s faint now, but his soul is…..quiet. It used to be so bright, yet deep. Like there was more than most.”

“……Is he….” Lavellan paused having trouble saying the words, but Cole plucked them from her head all the same.

“No. Not dead. Just….quiet. He isn’t hiding now. I could find him.”

“You what?” After a year of searching, Cole could just suddenly sense him. It would seem too good to be true if she wasn’t worried about his current state.

“Can you show us on the map or should we start walking?”

“I can show you. He’s here.” The area to which Cole pointed contained a Circle Tower. She’d never wished she’d been wrong so badly before. Vivienne had reinstated the Circles….and with them, the Rite of Tranquility. He’d mentioned several times on their journey that if he ever ended up at a Circle Tower, he’d never get out intact. His field of study and ideas were both too controversial and in their eyes, too dangerous to be allowed to continue.

“We have to go now. Notify Cassandra.”

“Inquisitor.” Leliana took Lavellan’s arm, making her stop. “We don’t know how he’ll react. It would be dangerous to remove this before we know more.”

“And the longer we wait, the riskier it becomes. You know Solas. If he’s Tranquil, he might as well be dead. We leave now.” The fire in Lavellan’s eyes left no room for argument.

“Get Cassandra. We’re going to that tower.” The Inquisitor left the room, quickly donning her old gear from when keeping the world intact didn’t mean endless meetings. Outside in the courtyard, Cassandra, Cole and Dorian were waiting for her.

“Dorian, what are you doing here?”

“You know me. Can’t let that mural stay unfinished. It’s too lovely for that. Besides, I’ve missed intelligent conversation.”

Lavellan scoffed, climbing onto her Hart. “All right. Let’s go bring Solas home.” Finally.

                Arriving at the Circle Tower Cole had spoken of, Lavellan stopped in her tracks. She was about to see Solas again, something she’d wanted for a year now, but this wasn’t the reunion she’d imagined. She’d always imagined him strolling confidently back through the gate of Skyhold, rushing to meet him and perhaps slapping him hard across the face for leaving. They’d hold each other and swear to never be apart again. Whatever he needed, they could find together. This…..This wasn’t what she’d wanted at all.

“You’re hurting again.” Cole declared, stopping next to her.

“Yes. I’m worried. I don’t want to see him like this.” Lavellan confided to the spirit.

“You don’t have to. We could-“

“No. I do have to. But thank you, Cole. It helps.”

Cole gave a tiny smile at the assurance that he’d helped and the group rode the rest of the way to the Tower gates. Bearing the banner of the Inquisition, the Templars welcomed Lavellan inside easily, showing her to the First Enchanter.

“Inquisitor. To what do we owe this honor?”

“Did you take in an elven apostate mage lately? Middle-aged, bald, no tattoos?”

“….Yes. Is he wanted for something? We didn’t find any criminal records, but-“

“No. Nothing criminal. Where is he?”

“In the library, translating some of the Elvhen texts. It was the study he chose after being made Tranquil.”

The word hit Lavellan hard, her heart plummeting into her stomach. She hadn’t wanted Cole to be right. She hadn’t wanted to be right. She fought back tears as her teeth ground in anger, her hands curling into fists. How could the Rite of Tranquility still exist? It was cruel, no matter how they said that it protected people. His studies of the Fade were his life. His friends were there and his magic….it had always been so beautiful. A perfect mix of graceful and deadly. To have all of that stripped away because some ignorant Templars had gotten scared of what they didn’t understand….Lavellan regretted ever rebuilding them, even if they had been the more strategic move. She should have sided with the mages as Solas suggested.

“That….apostate…” She growled. “Was Solas of the Inquisition. The world’s leading expert on the Fade and the one who learned how to close the Breach in the sky.”

The First Enchanter turned pale. Solas had become a symbol for apostates, a sign that they could be trusted and there were plenty of rumors about him and the Inquisitor. She remembered how he’d declared himself as such at the ceremony. She’d had no reason to believe him, but she should have made sure. If this was true, then she’d just made one of the great mages of their time into an emotionless, dull scholar.

“There is a way to reverse this tragedy.” Cassandra interjected before the Inquisitor broke the tension in a less constructive way. The woman looked ready to send an arrow through the First Enchanter’s skull. “But we need Solas.”

“I-I didn’t know who he was. He signed the papers as Abelas.” The Enchanter defended, deciding not to tell that he’d revealed himself lest she face punishment.

“Of course he did.” Lavellan grumbled. Just how far was he going to go to keep her away? He’d even endangered himself this time. If he’d just signed as himself, she’d have found him in days.  This never would have happened….Just what was he trying to do?

“We’ll get him. Just have his papers and phylactery destroyed.” Lavellan ordered, following a guard to the library. Her heartfelt ready to beat out of her chest from anger and anticipation. Even if she hadn’t wanted it to be like this, she was going to see him again. After an entire year of searching land and dreams, he was here.

Opening the door to the library, she stopped in her tracks. Hearing that Solas was Tranquil and seeing him there, calmly translating text in Tranquil robes were very different. He didn’t even look up when the door opened. Her veins felt like ice and fire all at once. The thought that something like this could be done to him, just on suspicion of demon contact, made her want to burn this tower to the ground. She couldn’t do that, though. It would just start another war and she’d fought enough of those. She’d have to settle for righting the wrong instead. At least they could reverse it. If this had happened a year ago, they’d have been helpless. Still, even in her angriest moments, she wouldn’t wish this upon him.

“Solas.”

The sound of his name made him look up, spotting Lavellan across the room. She hoped for some kind of reaction, for him to run to her…. Even run _away_ from her, something that showed that he felt something. Instead, she got a one word response.

“Inquisitor.” Solas replied, rising from his chair.

Lavellan bit back the anger, reminding herself that he was Tranquil. Even if he did feel something at seeing her again, it was sealed away. Still, she couldn’t hold back all her tears. Wiping away those that escaped, she approached his desk, fighting the urge to just hold him. The sunburst brand on his forehead felt like it was mocking her for not finding him in time.

“We’re taking you back to Skyhold. Cassandra will reverse what they’ve done.”

“Very well.” The way he just accepted what others said….It was so different from how he’d been. The sweet sadness that had permeated his voice, as if he was constantly in both wonder and dismay at the world around him, was gone. Lavellan couldn’t help at least taking his hand to lead him out of the tower. At least she knew that he wouldn’t shake her off. Cassandra and the others were waiting with his robes and staff. She couldn’t stand seeing him in the Tranquil robes another second and let him change inside the Tower.

“Inquisitor.” Cassandra held out a small vial, pulsing with how close Solas was to it. His phylactery. “I thought you may want to keep this.”

“Thank you, Cassandra….” Lavellan took the vial, staring at it. If he ran off again, he would be easy to fine. It felt like cheating, but at least something like this could be kept from happening again.

 As Solas returned from the Tower, she pocketed the small vial. Handing him his staff, she invited him onto her hart. She’d imagined his arms back around her many times, but never like this. They were cold, clearly just a means to stay on a horse, not the warm almost desperate embraces he used to pull her into. Every now and then as they rode, she’d lean back slightly to feel his chest on her back, just a reminder that he was there….just not completely.

Back at Skyhold, they returned to Solas’s room and had him sit at his desk. It was honestly strange for him to be so quiet, but he clearly remembered painting the murals. He looked about ready to start finishing the final piece if she didn’t tell him to stay put.

“How does this work, Cassandra?”

“A spirit of faith is beckoned to touch him and restore his connection to the Fade, but…” Lavellan could see the problem. As far as they knew, Solas didn’t believe in any gods.

“Could my faith work? Could I do the Vigil for him?” Lavellan offered.

“But you do not believe in-“

“The Maker. No. But I do believe in the Gods of the Elvhen. They may be sealed, but they are real. They’ve blessed my clan for many years.”

All this talk of “false gods” clearly put Cassandra on edge, but she agreed to try.

“He will be irrational when the Tranquility is lifted. As a gifted mage, he could be dangerous. Having some of the lingering Templars present could prevent any accidents.”

Lavellan wanted nothing more to do with the Templars, but Cassandra was right. If he lashed out, it would only be with fists and not fireballs.

“All right. I’ll start praying.” Lavellan promised, standing before Solas and taking his hands.

“I promise I’ll save you.” She swore, earning her that same unwavering stare.

“From what?” He calmly asked.

 “Just…close your eyes and listen.” Like a good Tranquil, Solas obliged.

“I pray to Dirthamen, the god of secrets, to reveal what has been hidden. I pray to June, the god of crafts, to repair what has been lost. I pray to…” Lavellan calmly and carefully prayed to each of the Elvhen pantheon. She’d never been so sincere in her life as she begged for the spirit to come and heal him. She heard the Templars enter and set the barrier around them, but didn’t stop.

“…I pray to Mythal, the Mother of Justice, for a way to right this wrong and I pray to Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, that he might let my prayers be heard.” Silence hung over the room as they waited.

_Please. Please work. Just one of you, please save him. He’s the only one searching for what you left behind._  “Please…” She half-sobbed.


	3. Cure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas is free, but does another kind of chain bind him now?

“Nn…” Lavellan’s eyes snapped open as she heard a strained noise come from Solas’s direction.

“Solas?” She called, seeing his eyes open again, starting to look around the room. Something was clearly happening to him as the blank stare he’d held shifted to one of panic and anger at the sight of the Templars.

“Get away from me!” Solas roared, shoving Lavellan away as he scrambled to his feet. The air crackled as his magic fought with the barrier restraining it.

“Inquisitor!” Cassandra looked about to rush to her side.

“I’m fine. Don’t let him leave!” She ordered. If he ran off like this, he could hurt someone, hurt himself.

All doors to the rotunda were sealed off and Solas stood in the middle of the ring of Templars like a cornered animal.

“Solas. Calm down. No one is going to hurt you.” Lavellan pleaded, rising slowly to her feet.

Recognition passed over Solas’s face, looking past the Templars to the walls he’d painted and to the Inquisitor. The panic faded to confusion.

“It’s all right. You’re not in the Circle anymore.” Lavellan explained, keeping her distance.

“But….how did you-?” He asked, trying to put the pieces together. The First Enchanter hadn’t believed him. He’d used a false name. So how was he here in Skyhold?

“Cole. He sensed your pain, probably before you were made Tranquil.”

“….Cole. What a marvelous spirit he is.” Solas sighed in relief and fell to his knees. Tears of relief fell from his eyes unbidden. “I-I’m sorry…I can’t seem to-“

“It’s all right. Cassandra knew this would happen. It’s why the Templars are here.”

“To keep me from harming you….A sound plan. Thank you, Cassandra. I apologize for my conduct.”

“It was a standard precaution.” Cassandra replied, glad that the process had worked. Solas no longer seemed belligerent, so she nodded to the Templars to leave. Stepping out with them, she thought the two would need some time alone.

Lavellan crossed the room to Solas’s side, kneeling in front of him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.” She admitted, wiping the tears away as her own dripped down her cheeks. He was here. Completely here now. Even though he may just leave again, she didn’t want to think about that. For now, he was here in front of her, safe.

“It’s not a practice I usually allow myself.” Solas admitted, his heart swelling with both pain and joy at seeing her again. He’d barely held himself back from returning for this entire year and now, he’d have to leave her again. He wasn’t sure that he could…

Gently, Lavellan held his face in her hands, resting her forehead against his.

“I missed you, Solas. I looked everywhere. I was so worried when Cole said you’d been hurt.” She confided, her own tears mingling with his.

He knew that she’d been searching, both in dreams and on land. Evading her forces had become a daily challenge. Now that he was back, it was hard to remember why he’d worked so hard to stay away.

“I know.” He replied, pulling his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, _ma vhenan._ ”

A sob answered him before he pressed his lips against hers. Tears of dread for when he’d have to leave again gave way to tears of joy for returning. His hand twisted into her red hair as he pulled her closer, tasting her on his lips again, smelling the lingering scent of pine on her skin.

“Nn…Solas…” Lavellan sobbed, smiling into the kiss. Pulling her arms around his shoulders, she clung to the fabric of his robes, as if afraid he’d disappear again if she let go. Eventually, they ran out of breath and simply held each other, each reassuring themselves that the other was there. Lavellan rested her head on his shoulder, her tears of joy slowing as she pressed a kiss to his neck.

Silently, they moved to his couch, leaning on each other and enjoying each other’s presence. Solas’s emotions vacillated inside him. One moment, he was overwhelmingly happy to have her in his arms again. The next, he was filled with the dread of leaving. The next, the crippling guilt he’d kept at bay over leaving and lying. He wished he could be as calm as Lavellan, resting in his arms.

“Solas?”

“Yes?”

“Do you need some time to yourself?” Lavellan offered, feeling the way Solas grip would change with his mood, his pulse racing and then calming. “Just to get yourself in order.”

“…..I do.” Solas admitted, unable to hide the relief in his voice. He needed to sort himself out without the one instigating these feelings sitting against him.

With a smile, Lavellan rose, planting a kiss on Solas’s forehead…and then frowned.

“Can you do something about the mark? Or can you not heal a scar like that?”

Solas had forgotten about the brand, touching the burnt flesh. With a calm blue light, he erased it from his features, much like he would have with Lavellan’s vallaslin had she let him. Technically, such things were not able to be healed by magic, but after absorbing Mythal, he enjoyed a few more magical privileges.

“Better?” He asked, his gentle smile curving his lips.

“Much better.” Lavellan replied, reluctantly letting him go. “Don’t run off again.”

“I won’t.” Solas solemnly promised. There was also Leliana above, watching him. As Lavellan left the room, her exhaustion from the day’s events caught up with her. Retiring to her quarters, she resigned herself to some normal peaceful dreams. In the rotunda, Solas did the same, eager to check on his friends and search for any changes in the Fade. He was exhausted from the flood of emotions. Perhaps it would be easier in the Fade. A small part of him still feared that he’d return to the dreamless sleep of Tranquility, but the memories of Skyhold’s past greeted him like an old friend.

 “He’s better now.” Cole announced, appearing in Lavellan’s room a few hours later.

Sitting up with a start, she saw the young man standing across the room. She doubted that she’d ever get used to that.

“Back to normal better or just better better?” She asked, needing some clarification.

“Better better. He’s resting now, dreaming again. It’s still too loud for him, but softer now.”

“I’ll visit him soon. He probably wants to enjoy the Fade for a while. I doubt he’s been outside of it that long before. Thank you, Cole. I’ll visit him soon.” Lavellan answered, pulling herself back together. Solas had always been so reserved. It was a difficult change to have him so open, but at least she knew now that he was glad to be back. She’d briefly wondered if he’d grown sick of her clinging to the Dalish ways and left her for it.

A few minutes later, Lavellan returned to the rotunda, finding Solas peacefully asleep on his couch, a tiny smile even present on his face. _He must be happy to be back._ Even if things were difficult right now, even if he left again, she was glad that she’d saved him. Living like a Tranquil was the same as death to him, maybe worse. She considered waking him, but knew from experience that Solas could be amazingly difficult to wake up. Plus, he was probably meeting with his friends again. For anyone else, she’d make a nice cup of tea to put on the table for when he awoke, but Solas hates tea or anything with caffeine in it that would make it hard for him to sleep again later. After brainstorming for a little while, she settled on a cold glass of juice. She had to make some kind of gesture that she understood, that she still remembered what he liked and what was important to him.

Returning to the rotunda with the drink, she found his sleep very changed from the usual. His brow was wrinkled in….what? Pain, fear? Was it a bad memory or a bad dream? She’d never known Solas to have nightmares. Setting the glass nearby, she wondered if she should try to wake him now.

“No….Don’t…” She heard him mumble in his sleep, looking tense.

“Solas…” She called quietly, reaching a hand out to him.

“NO!” Suddenly, he sat up, his breath coming in wild gasps. It took him a few moments to process where he was, looking around for the ring of Templars. With a sigh of relief, he rested his head in his hands.

“Solas…” Lavellan called again, noticing the shaking in his hands. Whatever he had seen had clearly scared him. “Was it a nightmare?”

Solas looked up to see Lavellan standing over him, worried.

“…….I suppose it was.”

“I didn’t know someone like you had nightmares.”

“Neither did I.” Solas answered with a nervous chuckle. He’d never had the Fade react to him so strongly, to reflect his fear so vividly. Cupping his shaking hands, he summoned a small flame inside them, reassuring himself that his magic was still there. The Fade had never turned against him in such a way. He’d been reuniting with his friends, hearing of anything that had changed in the Fade significantly. After inquiring about his absence, the Fade had suddenly shifted as his fear of what had happened welled up inside him.

“Can I ask what it was about? It may help.” Lavellan offered.

“…..It was the ceremony. When I was made Tranquil.” Solas confided, his voice shaking slightly.

That explained the fire in his hands. Lavellan had never seen Solas look so frightened. No matter how afraid the others were, he was always calmly coming up with a plan to get them through it. The polite mask that he always wore had been practically torn off by the reversal of his Tranquility. He was clearly having trouble calming down. His hands shook more than the flame inside them, his face even paler than usual, gasping breaths rattling his chest. Gently, Lavellan sat next to him, leaning against him.

“Vhenan—“Predictably, he protested to the physical contact.

“Let me comfort you for once.” Lavellan insisted, pulling her arms around his waist. “You’re safe now. That sort of thing won’t happen to you again.”

Slowly, the shaking subsided and his breaths stilled. Reassured, he let the flame in his hands flicker out as he relaxed.

“Thank you, Vhenan.” Solas sighed, turning to face her. Hesitating slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You help more than you know.”

“I try.” Lavellan smiled, stealing a kiss for herself. The elf was all too happy to oblige, throwing himself into the feeling of gratitude, of joy, of love that it brought.

Solas held her against him, his joy giving way to another strong feeling, a heat that sat at the pit of his stomach as he tasted her again. Each one was like being swept away by a tide now. He’d never noticed how tight a constraint he’d kept on his feelings. Letting them wash over him was freeing. Gently, he pressed his lips to her neck, peppering it with kisses. The hand on her back wandered south, pulling her onto his lap.

“Ah…Solas…” Lavellan sighed, feeling herself blush as touched her. “Ah!” He gasped as she felt him nip at the skin on her neck. Slowly, he started to lean her back. Something felt wrong. “Solas, wait.” She warned, pushing back, but he had the advantage of gravity. He used to have such control that she could barely tell what he was feeling. Now it was clear what he felt and it made her uneasy. Things had never gone this far and she’d thought about it on many nights, but not like this.

“Solas, stop. You don’t want to do this.” She insisted, pushing his face away from her neck. His knee pressed between her legs. Just a little longer...It had been so long since they had last touched, since he'd been this close to anyone. Her scent was surrounding him, welcoming him. He did want to do this for a just a little longer...Just a few more minutes before he put back on the mask and held himself back.

"I said, stop!" Lavellan slapped him hard across the face. The pain brought him out of his reverie, returning him to the truth of what he was doing. Quickly, he pulled himself off of her, his face reflecting the guilt and horror he felt at his actions.

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I don’t know what-“

“Just….cool off for a while.” Lavellan ordered, getting up and heading for the door. She paused, her hand on the knob.

“…If I find out that you’ve run away because of this, I’ll hunt you down.” She warned darkly, stepping out of the rotunda and shutting the door behind her. Outside were Dorian and Leliana, who’d heard the whole thing from their places above Solas’s room.

“Don’t let him leave again.”

“Inquisitor, in light of what he did-“

“He has no control over his emotions right now. He just wasn’t thinking. He’ll get better.” Lavellan didn’t know what to do if he didn’t. She took a deep breath to calm her still pounding heart. She’d honestly been afraid of him just then. If he couldn’t control himself anymore, then…

“He’s hurting again.” Cole suddenly appeared beside her, looking to the door. _“Can’t put her in danger, not from me. How could I have let myself? She doesn’t deserve someone like me._ He didn’t want to scare you. But he’s….tangled now.”

“I know. Can he work himself back out?” Lavellan replied, feeling better at the reassurance.

“Yes. But he needs help. I could help him. Everything is too bright, too much for him now. _Feelings catch and pull me in a wave. Beat against the tide, but it’s not enough. When will it stop?_ ”

“All right, Cole….Help him.” Lavellan blinked and Cole was gone.

“In the meantime, perhaps you should make sure not to meet in private.” Leliana suggested.

“No…He won’t let that happen again. If he really can’t control his emotions, if they are too strong for him now, that guilt should be eating him alive. I saw the look on his face….He was horrified.”

“Still, just for now.” Dorian insisted. “I’d be willing to be chaperone myself.”

“…All right. I think we’d both be more comfortable with that.” Lavellan took another deep breath. “I’m going to go rest. It’s been….a hell of day.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” Leliana agreed, watching her go. “Do you think he’ll be back to normal?”

“What, him? Solas was the king of control. I doubt he lost all of it in a week. Besides, once word of this incident gets out, there won’t be a soul in Skyhold not watching him.” Dorian grinned.

“Solas.” Cole called, finding the elf sitting at his desk, his head in hands.

“…Not now, Cole.” He replied, his stomach twisted in knots of disgust at his own actions. He should have known to be more careful. He’d theorized that those who were brought back from Tranquility would have no control. He should have been more careful.

“She doesn’t blame you.” Cole offered, sitting on the desk.

“She should.” Solas insisted.

“You aren’t quiet anymore. I can reach you now. I can help.”

“How? You are a spirit of compassion. You help others heal their pain, but this is beyond what words can fix.”

“You don’t want it to happen again. That’s good. You won’t let it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do. She doesn’t want you to leave again. She wants…that to happen, but not like that. She’s worried about you.”

Solas sighed. They both knew that if he’d been in his right mind, such a thing would not have happened….but he hadn’t been and it had happened. No amount of reassurance could change that. He wanted to leave again, for her own safety, but even the thought of doing so again was too much in his current state. Lavellan would likely never forgive him.

“I won’t hurt her again. Cole, can you stay with me?” Solas asked. “Can you make sure I don’t?”

“Yes. I like to help.” Cole smiled.

“Good. Thank you, my friend.” Solas smiled, moving to his couch to lie down again. Somehow, Cole’s words had eased his guilt, just a little. He’d seen Cole work with others, but never thought that he’d be on the receiving end of his assistance.

The two elves wouldn’t see each other again until the next day, each avoiding the other and avoiding talking about what happened. While Solas was mortified, Lavellan couldn’t help but be a little relieved. She wanted to do those things with him, but he’d always held back. She didn’t want to press the issue. Her trust in him wasn’t weakened by the incident. She knew that he wouldn’t let it happen again. So, that morning, she returned to the rotunda with another cup of juice. As usual, she was awake earlier than him. Setting the glass nearby, she watched him for a few moments. His usual calm sleep had returned. Perhaps his friends were helping him. Maybe that Spirit of Wisdom they’d saved in the Exalted Plains had returned? She hoped so. He’d been distraught over the loss. It was clear that, at least to Solas, spirits were little different than people.

She wanted to wake him and talk, but they’d both be more comfortable with a chaperone as Dorian had offered yesterday. Climbing the stairs, she roused Dorian from his sleep in the library.

“What is it? Is the dragon back?” Dorian asked, clearly still half-asleep.

“No. I just thought I’d talk to Solas about yesterday.” Lavellan replied.

“Ah, and you want me watching to make sure you don’t fall into his clutches again.” Dorian joked.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Lavellan ordered.

“I’m sorry. That was in poor taste. Such things can be hard to suppress even without your emotions running amok.”

“Like with you and Iron Bull?” Lavellan shot back with a smirk.

“Exactly.” Dorian smiled. “I’m here. You go talk.”

“Thank you, Dorian.” Descending the stairs, she found Solas newly awakened, stretching his long, thin limbs, a contemplative look on his face as he thought back over his dreams.

“Andaran Atish’an.” Lavellan greeted in elvhen.

Solas turned to the voice, unable to hide his smile and subsequent look of worry as he saw her.

“Andaran Atish’an…Are you sure you should-?”

“Dorian is watching.” Lavellan assured him, pointing upstairs to the Tevinter mage leaning over the banister, giving them a little wave.

“I see. I asked Cole to do something similar.” Solas explained.

“Then we should be fine. He’s probably watching too.” Lavellan smiled. It was just like Solas to take precautions of his own. “So…how are you feeling?”

“Still a bit tumultuous, but better than yesterday…It helped that you found me so quickly. Speaking of which…I never thanked you for what you did. Cassandra explained to me how the ceremony works before…before I left.” Mentioning his departure brought a flash of pain to both their faces. “You prayed to the elvhen gods, correct?” He’d heard her voice, calling his other name, pleading for his return. Even unknowingly, it had been ages since he’d been called by that name.

“I did. I know that you don’t believe in them, but you need something to believe in if you want to call a spirit of faith.”

“No. I admire your faith. Your beliefs are your own and in this instance, they have saved me. So, thank you. Perhaps I can thank this spirit if I search the Fade….”

An awkward silence settled over the two, neither willing to look at the other. Lavellan wanted to sit next to him, but she doubted that would make things any less tense right now. The question she wanted to ask hung in the air between them. Things had largely settled, the relief of his simple return having worn away to wondering why he even left. Now may even be the best time to ask, when he couldn’t hide behind that polite mask of his.

“….Why did you leave, Solas?”

Solas was unable to hide the guilt that passed over his face, the wince at the question he’d been waiting for. He couldn’t tell her. If she knew, she could run from the Dread Wolf she’d been told about in false stories….or worse, insist on helping.

“Can’t you at least tell me that?” Lavellan pressed. If he didn’t want her there anymore, she understood, but she felt that she deserved to know why.

It would be easy to lie, to come up with some other reason to leave, but he had never been able to lie to her. Instead, her question was met with silence. Unable to face her, Solas stared at a spot on the ground beside him.

“………Can you at least tell me if you’ll leave again?” Lavellan pressed. Whatever burden Solas was carrying, it was clear that he didn’t want help bearing it.

“…..Yes.” Solas replied to that at least, committing the decision to himself as well.

“Is that an I’ll tell you yes or a yes I’m leaving?” Lavellan asked.

“Both.” Solas answered.

“…….Do you know how long you’ll stay?” Lavellan pushed, clearly getting more agitated. He’d been captured and handed a fate worse than death and he still refused to stay, refused to let her help with whatever he was so important.

“No…..At least until I can get a hold of myself.” Solas continued. “Ir abelas, vhenan.”

“Why can’t you trust me? Do you think I can’t help you? You practically died, Solas! If it’s so important that you’d leave me behind, why isn’t it important enough to ask for help?! You can’t do this alone! You already proved that!” Lavellan’s voice rose until she was yelling, her voice echoing off the painted walls of the rotunda.

“Do not presume to tell me what I can or cannot do!” Solas snapped back, growing tired of her barrage of ignorance. He wasn’t asking for help because it wasn’t important, but because it was too important. He couldn’t let her help with something like this. There was too much risk, too much at stake.

The sudden burst of anger shocked Lavellan. The only time she’d seen Solas truly angry was when they’d found the mages that had killed his friend. Faced with his wrath herself, she understood their fear, especially since she had not stopped him from killing them.

“Fine. Keep being some kind of secret hero. Just don’t count on me to save you next time.” Lavellan turned on her heel, slamming the door behind her as she left the rotunda.


End file.
